Shining Through
by Katharina Liebe
Summary: When Rose leaves the academy to hunt Dimitri, Janine Hathaway must find the courage to call him…to reopen the festering wound that Abe Mazur left behind within her. Goes back and forth between present-day and the past. Contains slight swearing.
1. Prologue

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own the plot. Anything you recognize belongs to Richelle Mead. _

**Prologue**

_**Present Day**_

When Guardian Alberta Petrov contacted me and told me that Rose had signed herself out of Saint Vladimir's Academy, I couldn't help but be alarmed. I knew my daughter had been upset about her mentor's untimely and very sudden demise at the hands of Strigoi, but I'd never guessed that she'd react in such a way. When asked, Guardian Petrov assured me that she had no idea where Rose was going or why, but I had suspicions. I hadn't realized until the moment in the caves just how close she had been with Guardian Belikov.

We'd all been so close to the exit. We'd been nearly out of the cave and into the safety the fading sunlight offered. And then those three Strigoi had attacked, appearing so suddenly that we'd all been taken by surprise. Belikov had been drug to the ground by one of them and as soon as Rose had seen this, she'd fought against me to run back into the caves.

_Rose, we have to get out of here!_

_He's in there! Dimitri's in there! We have to go back for him! We can't leave him! _

The fear and anguish on her face had been unbearable. She'd tried to desperately to rip out of my grasp and save him, but I'd slapped her, trying to bring her out of her daze.

_Run! He is dead! You are not going to join him! _

She had looked like I'd punched her in the gut, but she'd followed me back to the academy. Tears had run down her cheeks, her eyes looking even more tortured than when we'd found her in Spokane. She had looked absolutely agonized…and that had been when I'd started to put the pieces together.

How close they'd seemed a few months ago and how much more attached they'd seemed lately. Her reaction when I'd told her about Tasha offering Dimitri a guarding position and even possibly a chance for a family. Belikov's palpable fear for Rose instead of her Moroi friends when they'd gone missing. And glancing over at her, I'd sen how upset she was. No, not upset…destroyed. An ache in my chest had reminded me of the only time I'd ever looked like that…and it hadn't been caused by a mentor-student friendship. It had been caused by lost love. Pushing those thoughts aside, I had thrown up my guardian defenses and buried any emotions I had.

But now, knowing that my daughter was missing mere weeks after her mentor had been turned Strigoi…I knew what she was doing. She was going after him. And I had to go after her. The only problem was that I had to guard my Moroi, Lord Szelzky. Of course I could take time off, but I could really only be gone a couple weeks. I didn't know if that would be enough time to find her. I mean, she had a head start on me and she also knew much more about Belikov than I did. I wouldn't even know where to start looking. But I knew someone who had the resources to find her and much quicker than I could ever hope to.

That dull ache in my chest returned, reminding me that I'd have to face my own demons if I called him. I hadn't spoken to him in nearly eighteen years. The only contact I had with him was sending different pictures and updates about Rose in letters, but I never received any reply. For all I knew, he'd fallen off the face of the earth and wasn't even getting my missives anymore. In one of my rarer moments, I allowed myself to open up the tightly sealed box inside of me that contained my emotions.

Looking back, if I'd known then what I did now, I never would have visited my grandparents that summer in Scotland. I never would have flirted with him. I never would have trusted him or let him in. And I most certainly wouldn't have given my heart to him. Or at least that's what I tell myself in my more emotional moments. In reality, I would never give up that single year…one of the best _years_ of my life resulting in the best _thing_ in my life. Because in order to do that, I'd have to regret Rose. I'd have to regret everything…regret loving him. And that was something I could never do.

Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket before I could change my mind, I found his number and hit send. He'd given it to me nearly eighteen years ago, saying that he only wanted to hear from me this directly in an emergency. I just hoped I could still get in touch with him through it. After all, his number could have changed by now.

But as that voice spoke a single word into my ear, the accent exactly how I remembered it, his tone still exactly the same, I couldn't help but shiver. I remembered everything that voice had said to me…even the things I wished I didn't remember.

* * *

"Mazur," I said, flipping my phone open. I was in an important meeting with my guardians and hadn't even bothered to look at the caller ID on the screen. There was silence on the other end.

"Hello?" I barked impatiently.

"Ibrahim…" That voice…one that I hadn't heard in almost eighteen years. Closing my eyes, I waved my guardians out of the room. When I heard the door close, I swallowed hard.

"Janine. What a pleasant…surprise." Why was she calling me? I explicitly had told her not to contact me for anything short of an emergency.

"I'm not calling for me, if that's what you mean," she said, picking up on my slightly displeased tone. I didn't mean to be so harsh with her…it was just hard hearing her voice and not being able to be with her. I'd been faced with a difficult decision and had to break things off with her. I figured that it would be easier for everyone involved if we didn't see or speak to each other. The memories were hard enough to deal with…I couldn't imagine actually seeing her and not being able to touch her…to hold her.

God, what the hell was wrong with me? I was losing my big bad attitude over a woman.

"Then what is this about?"

"It's about your daughter," she said. I noticed she refused to say _"our." _Knowing her, she was trying to stay as emotionally detached from anything to do with me as she could…which was honestly in her best interests, even if it did aggravate the hell out of me.

"What about her?"

"She's gone missing."

"Missing?" I asked, stunned.

"Yeah, as in absent, disappeared, gone."

"I know what missing means, Janine," I growled. We may have been apart for nearly two decades, but apparently she could still get under my skin. "Why is she missing?"

"Her mentor was turned Strigoi a couple weeks ago. I think she's gone to try to find and kill him."

"That doesn't sound like the usual mentor-student relationship to me," I murmured.

"That's because it isn't."

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked, louder than I had meant to.

"I think they were closer than most people assumed. But that's beside the point. Rose is very good at killing Striogi, she's shown that, but she doesn't know what it's like when you go up against someone you once knew. She doesn't realize that she'll hesitate, especially if she cares about him as much as I think she does, and that hesitation could get her killed." I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my daughter could have been having a relationship with a teacher, so I was a little behind.

"She had a relationship with a teacher?"

"Don't get all fatherly now, Ibrahim. You lost that right a long time ago when you said you didn't want us." I had said that, but it had been the only way to get her to leave. The only way to save her from what could have been certain death. I hadn't wanted to lose her or my unborn child. Honestly, I think a part of me had realized that if they were dead I wouldn't be able to survive. Even though I was a million miles away from them, I at least knew they were alive. Knowing that much was what kept me going.

"Are you going to help or not?" she asked, her anger making her voice quiver slightly. _Unless it was due to something else_…but I pushed that hopeful thought aside. She had hated me after everything I'd said and done...that couldn't have changed.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Her mentor, Guardian Dimitri Belikov, grew up in Russia." _Belikov? As in the Baia Belikovs?_ "I think she'll start looking for him there. I need you to watch out for her…please. I know you don't want anything to do with us, but please…she's all I've got." I was surprised at how much emotion she was showing, but decided not to comment on it.

"You want me to find her and send her home?" I asked, making sure I understood.

"Yes."

"Do you really think that if she left the academy and came all the way to Russia on some sort of mission that she's just going to listen to me and go back home? If she's come this far, she'll want to see it through."

"She'll get herself killed. And besides, you're good at convincing people to do things. That's your business, if I recall correctly." I could hear bitterness in her words, although I didn't think she realized how much she was giving away to me. I'd always been able to read her really well, even when she'd thrown her defenses up against me.

I sighed, frustrated. "I'll see what I can do, but I make no promises." There was silence once again on the other end, almost making me think that she'd hung up without so much as a goodbye. After everything I'd done in the past, in her eyes I'd probably deserve no less.

Then I heard her whisper, "Thank you, Ibrahim." Hearing her say my name sent a shiver down my back. I instantly shook myself, trying to dispel whatever she was doing to me.

"I'll keep you updated," I said before hanging up. That had been a lot harder than I'd ever imagined. Of course I'd thought that I'd never see or hear from her again, so I hadn't spent much time imagining either of those things.

I could send out my best agents and order them to take her home as soon as they could, no matter how difficult she fought against them. They'd do it; they always did as I said. But for some reason, I knew this was a job I had to do myself. Knowing I should call my guardians back in and discuss our newest mission, I decided to give myself a few minutes to process this sudden shift that had just occurred in my life.

To the world, I was the most fearsome Moroi in existence. I was a snake or so they said. My nickname, Zmey, even meant it. I was a cold-hearted bastard that ran a dangerous business and lived an even more dangerous life. I was callous, cruel, and calculating. I'd been raised by the best mobster in the world, my father, so it shouldn't have surprised anyone how I'd turned out. And I'd been happy with the life I lived and the business I knew I'd one day inherit. Or at least I had been…until her.

I'd never expected to fall for a rather short, auburn haired Dhampir. But that summer had changed everything, realigning my world so that her brown eyes were the center of it. She'd shown me the goodness in the world, the happiness I'd never before felt. I'd no longer wanted the family business. In fact, I'd wanted to get out so bad that I'd accidentally tipped off my father. He'd done the one and only thing that would have ever made me remain with him, resulting in my falling out with Janine. We'd lost everything as quickly as we'd gained it.

So to the world I was the most fearsome Moroi in existence, but to me…I was a heartbroken man that had lost the chance to know his daughter as well as the love of his life.

_Damn, I really had to stop being so sappy…_


	2. Chapter 1

I'm sorry for any typos or other mistakes in this chapter. I really just wanted to get this up for you all. I have exams next week, so I may not update until next weekend at the earliest because I have to study. Enjoy the chapter and any feedback would be helpful!

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own the plot. Anything you recognize belongs to Richelle Mead. _

**Chapter 1**

_** Past Memories**_

Stepping off the plane, I pushed my sunglasses down from their position on the top of my head and over my eyes. I walked down the set of stairs the airport officials had pulled up to the side of the plane, enjoying the warm sun as it met my skin. It hung low on the horizon, setting slowly as the balmy afternoon faded. I had become so used to never seeing daylight while I was at court and it was definitely something I'd be taking advantage of during my summer.

After a somewhat traumatic event with charge and guarding partner, I'd been relieved of my duties for the summer. I found it a little odd since my actions had been considered utterly heroic, but apparently my superiors thought it best that I had some time off to deal with recent events. I honestly didn't think I needed the time off, but perhaps that was just me being optimistic. I tended to close myself off from the world, but I also closed myself off from my own emotions. Sometimes I just blocked things out that I didn't want to think about or relive. Call it whatever you want, but I called it optimism. After all, I always tried to believe in the best…even if some events made me wonder if there was any good left in the world. Pushing those dangerous thoughts aside, I let happiness flood through me. My grandparents, the only family I had left, lived in Scotland, the only real semblance of a home I've ever had. I knew that no matter what problems I was dealing with, coming home seemed to always fix them. Hence the reason why I had decided to spend my time off with them.

I didn't like the idea of my charge continuing on with her life without me at her side, especially considering she was my best friend. Tatiana Ivashkov was attending college near court while also studying the intricacies of becoming a monarch. The Moroi king was nearly eighty, had numerous health issues, and the world didn't expect him to live much longer. The Ivashkov clan had deemed Tatiana their best bet for their monarch nominee. She would have to go through many tests in order to even have the opportunity to be elected, but she was extremely determined. I had no doubt that she could do anything that she set her mind to.

I hefted the strap of my duffle bag over my shoulder, going over everything I'd have to do once I returned to court. No wonder Tatiana always called me paranoid. While I didn't have much of a badass reputation, that is until recently, I was known for the highest markings anyone had ever received at my old academy. I had come up against Strigoi a couple times, but the most recent sighting had left me with three _molnija _marks, an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, and a lot of bruises. Pushing those thoughts aside, I tried to erase any emotions from my facial features.

Glancing behind me, I noticed two men staring at me. And not in a good way. They'd both been on the plane and had been eyeing me then too, making me slightly uncomfortable in my t-shirt and shorts. When I'd been at the academy, I'd received a lot of attention from the boys around me, whether they were Moroi or Dhampir. When I'd been younger and more naive, I'd simply believed I was likeable and that they were attracted to the optimism and happiness that always accompanied me. But as time went on, I had begun to really like one of them. Going against Tatiana's advice, I'd met him in a lounge one evening, thinking he just wanted to hang out. I'd ended up being nearly stripped to the waist against my will before a novice I'd been close to, Balin, had come barging in. Tatiana had tipped him off and he'd come, knowing exactly what an arrogant Moroi would do to a Dhampir girl like me. After saving me from an awful situation, he'd bluntly explained to me that I was too open and trusting. He'd encouraged me to hide my emotions from the world, claiming that no one could hurt you if you never let anyone get close enough to do so. He and Tatiana had become my closest friends and the only people I ever let anywhere near my actual feelings and even that became more and more rare. Who knew that the person who'd given me such protective advice would be the one to hurt me the most?

"Janey!" My head snapped up at the familiar nickname that only my grandparents could get away with. Smiling widely, I ran over to them, hugging each of them tightly. People were giving them a wide berth as they were pretty controversial in the vampire world. But I pushed that thought aside as I pulled away to look at them.

My grandmother looked as beautiful as when I'd last seen her about a year ago, although she seemed a bit thinner and her eyes hard dark circles beneath them. I briefly wondered if she'd fed lately. Auburn hair streaked with a few strands of grey fell to her shoulders and a few wrinkles marred her near perfect skin. Her figure, skinny and fairly tall, was like most Moroi bodies. Her startlingly emerald eyes looked like gems shining in the sunlight as she tried to contain happy tears. She and I were extremely close, making our long separation difficult for both of us.

"Dia duit," I said, greeting my grandfather in Gaelic. He'd always loved when I spoke to him in our native language, which he had taught me at a young age.

Smiling brightly, my grandfather, who I'd lovingly taken to calling Pap in my younger years, leaned in and kissed my cheek, happy that I had remembered how to say hello. His hair was greying, but unlike many men, he still had a full head of it. His shirt bulged due to his muscled build as he wrapped an arm around his wife. The friendly wrinkles at the corners of his eyes revealed that he was hardly ever upset about anything.

Part of me could understand why people saw them as an oddity as they'd gone against the normal Moroi and Dhampir traditions when they'd eloped. I couldn't blame them for the love they felt, especially since I'd lived with them more than half my life. I'd seen their struggles and triumphs and they were never alone in any of it…they had each other. Even though a part of me found it somehow wrong, the more time I spent with them, the more I found myself wishing I could have a love like theirs. I believed strongly in a Dhampir's duty to protect Moroi, but I also believed strongly in the power of love. I mean, how could I not with all the experiences I'd shared with my grandparents and parents? But I knew it would never happen for me. I'd never let someone get close enough to me, therefore obliterating any chances of me finding that.

A little over an hour later, we finally pulled in the driveway and up to the beach house. It had two stories, providing all of us plenty of room in which to live together. Even in the dark shadows that night began to descend upon the earth, I could see the sea grass that grew up through the sand surrounding the home waving gently in the breeze. I could smell that salty sea water as I whiffed the air and knew that coming here had been the right decision. There was nothing a little time with my grandparents and the ocean couldn't resolve…even if I still refused to admit to myself that there was a problem.

"Go ahead in," Grandpa said, lifting my bag from the trunk. "We'll be right behind you." I noticed my grandfather placed what looked to be a comforting hand on Grandma's back, but I didn't think anything of it. Walking through the front door, I was assaulted with memories. I walked a few steps further. _My little feet running through the house as I was chased by my father._ Running my fingers along the oak railing, I passed the staircase leading to the second floor. _Sliding down the banister only to get scolded once again._ Smelling the lingering scent of whatever my grandmother had made for lunch still hanging on the air in the kitchen. _Spending the evenings with my parents and grandparents around the kitchen table, playing cards or simply talking. _The years of laughter and happiness seemed to fill the house with the soothing balm of love. I had made so many good memories in this home on the beach. Refusing to ruin my happiness at being home, I pushed away the more depressing moments I'd had in it as well. I just wanted to enjoy the time I had here as I didn't get the chance to return very often.

"We had a nest of turtles out back this spring," Grandpa said from behind me. It reminded me of the week or so before my parents had been killed. It had been the last time we'd all been together, watching the babies return to the sea in the light of our flashlights. I had been nearly ten years old, visiting home during one of our breaks at the academy. It had been one of the times in my life that I could remember being completely content with my life. How quickly things had changed…

"Did they finish that resort?" I asked, still angry that someone had thought to ruin the lovely environment of the shore by building a luxury hotel for the rich and famous not even a few miles down the beach. I hadn't noticed the massive structure upon entering the house, but then again I hadn't been looking for it.

"They did," he answered. "So far it hasn't seemed to disturb the ecosystem or our way of life too much. Every once in a while someone will walk onto our property, but it hasn't been nearly as bad as what we expected." I rolled my eyes, still annoyed that it had been built at all. My grandparents and I had fought desperately to save the land, but in the end we had obviously lost. I guess when you had unlimited amounts of money, you could get just about anything you wanted. A luxury I did not have.

"I think I'll go take a walk," I said.

"Now?" Grandma said, coming into the kitchen. "It's pretty dark outside."

"I know. I've just missed how peaceful the beach can be at night." I knew they wanted to keep me inside, especially since I was sure they'd been told about the recent attack I'd experienced. But I also knew they'd give me the space I needed and the peace I longed for.

"I'll be careful, I promise," I said, kissing them both on the cheek before walking out the back door and into the deepening twilight. The wooden porch was the same as I remembered, a glass table sitting on one side with chairs and a fancy grill on the other. My grandparents may not be wealthy, but they respected food enough to have the very best cooking utensils. I could remember helping my father and grandfather build the deck when I was only eight years old…another memory, another moment that seemed to go by too fast.

Clomping down the stairs, I reached down and felt the grains of sand slip through my fingers. In a way, the sand was like life itself. No matter what anyone did, no matter how carefully you lived, life was always slipping away. Minute by minute, day by day, year by year…and you never got that time back. Knowing how dangerous the life of a guardian could be, I always tried to admire the little things in life. I always appreciated everything because I knew that chances were good that I'd die young. I wanted to live as much as I could before my time ran out.

Thinking along those lines, I tugged off my shoes and sat them on the deck, letting my toes curl into the sand before walking off down the shore. Looking up and trying to ignore the hue of light ahead of me, I took in the stars as they shone brightly against the backdrop of the pitch-black sky. I finally dropped my gaze to the land in front of me; I could definitely make out the resort now as it lit up the beach like daylight in the darkness about a mile and a half away. Seeing how the lights distorted the beauty of a summer evening made me feel sick. Could they not see that something like that didn't belong in a place as serene as this?

But as soon as I thought the word _serene, _something off to my right, towards the obscure landscape that I knew to be an expanse of sand dunes and sea grass, moved. Of course the universe would have to take away any semblance of peace that I felt. Reaching for my side holster, I pulled out my stake. I could make out the shape of someone walking towards me, seemingly not noticing that I was there. And then, quite unexpectedly, there was someone standing only a few feet in front of me. Swinging my arm out, I punched whoever it was in the nose. I heard a satisfying crunch and grunt before I quickly tried to line my stake up with their chest. The metal glinted softly in the little amount of light the heavens gave off.

"Wait, wait!" the man behind him yelled. "He's not a Strigoi! He's my guardian!" I immediately lowered my stake but still held it tightly in my hand. The man I had punched held a hand to his nose, but I could make out a stake in his other hand.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"It's alright," the guardian said. "We were both surprised."

"I suppose you're right. What are you doing on our land?"

"We're staying at the resort," the Moroi man said, an unfamiliar accent lacing his words. "But apparently we walked past its limits." His eyes had shifted a bit when he'd spoken, making me wonder if he was lying. Of course, what could possibly be an ulterior motive for being on our land?

"Yes you did," I said, trying not to let my feelings about the resort make me appear snippy. A cloud shifted, allowing more light from the moon to reach us. I could tell that the guardian was in pain as he held his nose and swiped blood away from his nostrils.

"I'm really sorry about your nose," I reiterated. I had definitely broken it, but I had been startled and had reacted before I'd thought. That excuse didn't really make me feel any better though. I'd have to be more careful, especially with so many people being nearby now.

"Don't worry about it," he said, a small smile flittering across his lips. He was tan and muscular, like most male guardians, and seemed to have short light brown hair. My guess was that he was at least 5'9'' and his Moroi was even taller. Moving my gaze to his charge, I noticed that he also had darker skin than most of his kind. I couldn't really tell much about his features besides his black hair and sarcastic looking smirk.

"And who, may I ask, are you?" the Moroi asked. His accent was really bugging me, as I couldn't place it, but his tone bothered me more. I could feel his eyes evaluating me, running over my curves and the facets of my face. The strange thing was, as bothered by his tone as I was, I wasn't afraid of him or what he could potentially do to me. Normally that thought frightened me, as it brought back memories of what had occurred in the lounge, but not this time. Not with him. Whoever _him _was.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that, seeing as you're on my property?"

"Fair enough," he said. "Ibrahim Mazur." He held out his hand for me to shake, waiting for me to introduce myself.

"Guardian Janine Hathaway." I noticed his guardian look up at me when I said my name and hoped he wouldn't bring up the recent events that I'd been a part of. Placing my hand in Ibrahim's, I noticed a weird sort of electric tingle that worked its way from my hand up my arm. _What the hell was wrong with me? _

"Pleasure to meet you," he said. I could only nod, waiting for him to release my hand. When he finally did, I crossed my arms tightly, trying to expel the feeling of his hand in mine. "And this is Guardian Pavel Kiselow." His guardian was still staring at me, but jolted and waved slightly when he heard his name.

"Well as fun as this has been, I should probably get back," I said.

"Maybe we'll see each other again," Ibrahim said.

"Maybe…but I doubt it." Walking away from them, I could hear them murmuring about something. They had seemed a bit mysterious, but maybe that was just my overactive imagination. Looking up at the stars, I sat down in the sand, appreciating the beautiful view and letting time continue to slip away.

_You may have found it strange that I incorporated Tatiana into this story, especially in this way. I was rereading Blood Promise over the weekend and I was reminded of how Tatiana acts when Lissa brings up Janine while at Royal Court. It made me wonder why she would do so, giving me the idea to explain it. _


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